


where flowers grow in ranks

by spiraetspera



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Gen, almost!character death, underage refers to the fact that it is teenage!royai sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiraetspera/pseuds/spiraetspera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"On the day she is appointed and sworn to be the Fuhrer's right hand, Riza Hawkeye wears her blackest shirt under the starchy uniform and her most polite expression."</p><p>Riza Hawkeye deals with Bradley and her emotions, respectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where flowers grow in ranks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_musical_alchemist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_musical_alchemist/gifts).



> I just finished both the 2003 Fullmetal anime and FMA Brotherhood and let me tell you, there is nothing as sweet as watching Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye being in deep love with each other. This fic a humble gift to the_musical_alchemist, because her royai fics both inspired me and made me weep with joy. Thank you!!

  
i.

  
On the day she is appointed and sworn to be the Fuhrer's right hand, Riza Hawkeye wears her blackest shirt under the starchy uniform and her most polite expression. She has always been akin to, as Falman suggests, the valkyries of old.

"But now, you might be more of a grieving Madonna." the officer concludes. As they bid goodbye, Falman tightens his hand around his, suprisingly affectionate. Riza, who always had been rubbish at saying goodbyes, now answers simply with a small smile.

"I'd rather be a fighter." His face changes then, somehow reflecting loss, and she understands. It is like looking into a mirror. "Take good care, Vato."

"And you, Lieutenant."

 

  
ii.  
His Highness' days are relatively schematic: legislative or executive issues that involves tons of paperwork to write and then making sure the procured papers are all signed; then copying and sending them back or forward.

Hawkeye's job has, presently, the cruel irony of mimicking her life.

She keeps swinging, back and fro, not knowing whether she will be worthy or worthless enough not to be thrown away or be returned. Their time, though, is running out.

It is either the grave or Roy.

The notion of this - this harsh, cold fact between death or him brings of course another, more sickening realization: him _and_ death. What if, she thinks before checking herself, it dawns on the homonculus that the Colonel would not play his part, that of the sacrificial lamb, and intends to fight and fight and fight back.

He _will_ be killed then.

Riza has known this for quite a time (that they are dancing at the lips of life and death, always were, always are) and yet, now that the executor is just an arm's length away and she is literally handing her papers like a machine and a doll, and lord please we had sworn that never this - it becomes more like a thought written down on a paper.

It gains weight. It is more real.

"This letter," Bradley notes. "is a bit crumpled. Is everything alright, Lieutenant Hawkeye?"

 _Tu ad Populum_ , reads the motto at the right hand corner of each paper, on the sigil and the doors. _Thou art for the people._

She does not believe in abstractions or abstract, sanctified passages - but vehemently, fiercely and costantly believes in Roy Mustang, and that he is, above all, for the people.

 _And thus, Riza Hawkeye_ , she swears to herself as she apologizes to this no-soul, ever-fury, so-called man and feels her own face and heart turn to stone, _Thou art for Roy Mustang._

 

 

iii.

  
_Can Anyone Reach Elizabeth? Full of suprises is she, Unique in her ways, Loving in her distance. if you know how i can get to her, do tell. yours - m._

  
The note is written on a napkin, found among her paper in her desk. His letter ' _a_ ' is way too sophisticated (a sign that he is an idealist) and the leg of the ' _r_ ' curves gracefully (a sign that he is a romantic). The 'e' in Elizabeth looks as if his hand quivered while writing it down. It is difficult to breathe.

_C-A-R-E-F-U-L_

There was no use to use code, really. She brings the note to her heart, searching for the warmth, his warmth and feels the fear wheedling in between the words. Then she rips the paper to pieces, tasting metallic in her mouth.

 

 

iv.

  
She stands so close to him in their dusty, always dark kitchen, that she could have counted his eyelashes. Riza is sixteen and Roy -Mister Mustang- is soon turning eighteen. He has light in his dark, dancing eyes.

"Look," he said stretching his palms out, with a smile so bright it still makes her ache. "No need to buy candles anymore."

And indeed, in his hands there is fire, well, a tiny flame, but it is heat incarnate. Riza is not afraid. On the contrary, she is mesmerized. Even in this child-blaze there is an immense, indescribable energy, pouring _outoutout._

The light it can give is infinite. Roy looks proud. Riza feels this pride as well, and the tenderness that comes with this - the tenderness that comes solely by looking at Roy - will never fade.

 

 

v.

  
Falman and Breda both send letters to her, talking about the weather and the food. There is no need to write about more. Family, by presence alone, is enough.

Behind the sentences of " _you would not believe the western wind, Hawkeye, it is fucking wild_ ;" Riza sees trust and behind " _Olivier is not really human, she is a very good looking walking tank_ ;" Riza knows faith.

_Yours, truly:_

We would _die_ for the Colonel.

We would die for _you_.

For them, it is almost the same.

 

 

vi.

  
Checking the number of escorts is rarely of use. For sometimes, the King asks her personally to accompany him on his relatively long strolls in the city. They both know it is facade. It is a boastful facade. She is disgusted but shows nothing.

"Lovely morning." he says, showing his teeth. Riza sees a blood-soaked booth instead.

"Yes, sir. It is quite sunny."

They pass the florist where Bradley buys flowers for his wife and buys a bouquet for Hawkeye as well.

"This one is Azalea," he says while she bows to thank him. "Symbolizes temperance, loyalty, strength. You are all three of these, are you not, Lieutenant?"

The flowers have a soft-pink colour, but they do not seem delicate. There is a single white flower too, among all the pink.

Riza looks into Bradley's eyes.

"I am loyal, yes. I do not know about the other two."

He seems amused, but teeth do not show.

"Do you know what an 'Achilles' heel' is?" he asks her, and though the sun crowns them both, Riza feels very cold. Her fists clench, hard and unforgiving. She hides them behind her back.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"It is a single weakness that has the capacity to annihilate the otherwise inherent strength in a man." he states, as if he did not hear her answer. "Mustang, like every human on this whole, wide earth, has a pathological weakness that has no remedy."

_It is starting to rain._

Riza is itching for her gun, but her limbs are unbelievably heavy.

_No need to buy candles anymore._

"The white flower," Bradley says, and there is no mirth in his voice anymore. "is columbine. Symbolizes foolishness despite reason."

 

 

vii.

  
Valkyrie(s) - _female warrior(s), shield maiden(s). The men they took as lovers were usually slain in battles, leaving the valkyries to search for their bodies and souls._

 

 

ix.

  
Riza is sixteen and Roy is not yet eighteen and she is kissing him clumsily the moment her father starts to snore in the next room.

The kitchen table is clean -thanks to her- and the kitchen floor is full of transmutation circles and half-spent bits of chalks -thanks to him- but the whole room is warm, thanks to both of them. His skin tastes like smoke and vividly lived dreams; and she smells like lavender and tastes like metallic duty.

They are both very inexperienced and very eager. Riza's teeth crash onto his, their saliva mingle, and he bits her tongue in his great hurry.

"You are beautiful" he breathes as he showers kisses on her graceful neck. "You are so beautiful, Riza, _RizaRizaRiza_ -"

She smiles a secretsmall smile and pulls him with her on the ground. It is dark, because they could not pay the bills yet again, but she feels the richest person alive as she feels his weight on her and his hands exploring under her shirt. He knows not how to proceed so she guides his hands down and down until he feels the warmth and the wetness.

It is all giggles and gasps and wonder after that; the way she arches as he slides his fingers into her makes Roy shiver, and the groan he makes when Riza finally puts her hand in his pant is a sweet melody. He does not last long, but makes it up for her by trying really hard.

They cease to be lovers after that summer, but never really stop being in love.

 

 

x.

  
Bradley draws out his sword in a catacomb so very dark.

"Achilles' heel" he murmurs and slices her throat. Her blood is pouring, _outoutout._

Her Colonel's screams reverberate. 

 

 


End file.
